The Untouchables
by littlegreenbottle
Summary: Emily Prentiss and Erin Strauss have a lot more in common than you think. Not a romance story. Well, at least not between Prentiss and Strauss anyway. For the Silver Screen Challenge on CCOAC. I chose Prentiss & The Untouchables, I got Strauss.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: For the Writers of the Silver Screen challenge on CCOAC. My chosen character was Prentiss and the movie was _The Untouchables._ Much to my initial dismay, Strauss was assigned to me. It was interesting writing her, but not something I feel compelled to do again after this story.

A/N II: This story was nominated for **Best Unusual Pairing **and **Best Characterization of Erin Strauss** for the Profiler's Choice Awards 2011.

Warnings: Anything from any of the already-aired Criminal Minds episodes is fair game with regards to subject matter and potential spoilers.

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><p>Everyone has their own way of protecting themselves.<p>

Emily Prentiss chose to be like a duck in a rainstorm. She constructed a thick, Gore-tex-like armor. Nothing got in. Nothing got out. Like most waterproof fabrics, when it became saturated it was suffocating.

Erin Strauss chose to be like a porcupine. She covered herself in sharp barbs designed to deter and injure anyone who got too close. Actually, everyone who got close. She had left no bare, vulnerable areas when she constructed her quilled armor.

Emily began the construction of her armor when she was nine years old. After four years of being picked on, made fun of, and beat up, she decided she was done being hurt. She had tried various strategies: crying, coming up with clever retorts, getting angry, and asking the other kids to stop. None of those had worked. It was as though her reaction encouraged their torment. The armor she constructed was impervious to their taunts and never let her hurt show through.

Erin began the construction of her armor when she was eighteen. Her father shook his head and laughed when she said she wanted to go into law enforcement. _You're too soft,_ he had said, _you'll never make it in that boy's club. _He had told her that she was better off getting her MRS degree than her BS degree in college. She bristled at his suggestion and in response built a set of armor that could be used for both defense and offense.

_You're beautiful._ When John whispered those words, Emily's armor slipped off as easily as her bra and panties. She was fifteen and she had been told she was smart, funny, polite, and well bred, but never beautiful. Emily understood: she was tall and gangly, her black hair refused to pick a side in the curly or straight debate, and her nose was too big for the rest of her face. John did more than tell her, he showed her with kisses and caresses that made her stomach hurt in a warm, exciting way. With her armor discarded in the pile of clothes next to the bed, Emily gave herself to John.

_Trust me._ Those words caused Erin to lay her quills down. She was at the FBI Academy and had been working with her partner for the last month on their practicum of leading a team into a hostage situation. She and Ryan worked seamlessly together, their cumulative effort far greater than the sum of the parts. Both were bright, ambitious, and even before graduating from the Academy had their eyes on the title Assistant Director; he would head up the National Security Branch and she, the Criminal, Cyber, Response, and Services Branch. They couldn't agree who would be Director, so they thought it best to stop at A.D. With her quills flat against her skin, Erin let Ryan take point on the raid.

Emily's armor was in tatters. She had tried to reassemble it, but John's cold indifference after that night had already seeped into its pores. It didn't fit anymore; it kept slipping off. It offered no more protection and coverage than the paper-thin gown she wore as she sat on the doctor's exam table. She had vowed to never again let anyone touch her without her armor firmly in place. Matthew was the exception to that rule. Even though he knew all of Emily's secrets, Matthew made her feel like she was worthy of friendship. As Emily sat the doctor's cold office Matthew's hand was warm and comforting. He was her lifeline and without his grip, Emily knew she would simply be pulled under the waves of guilt, shame, and self-loathing that crashed on her shore.

Erin's quills lay broken on the floor around her. Ryan had changed the strategy of how to breach the entry without telling her. So she looked both helpless and confused when two of the other (male) cadets forged ahead through a secondary entrance. Erin was left standing on the outside while the hostage-takers were captured. Her father's words echoed in her mind. _You're too soft._ Erin reassembled her barbs making sure they were harder and sharper than before.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** For the Writers of the Silver Screen challenge on CCOAC. My chosen character was Prentiss, the movie was _The Untouchables_, and my assigned character was Strauss.

Thanks to all those who are reading, reviewing, alerting, and favoriting. The fact you clicked a link to a story about Strauss shows that you have a lot of strength of character and I just wanted to acknowledge that.

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><p>Emily could only watch as Matthew began to self-destruct. Before John and Matthew, she hadn't allowed anyone to touch her unguarded self. John refused to acknowledge her unless he was ridiculing her. She couldn't figure out what she had done wrong. Matthew had turned from a pious, sweet boy to a petulant and surly one. He chose heroin over her, his family, and the church. Everything she touched turned bad. Emily's reassembled armor was designed not only to protect herself from others, but also to protect others from her.<p>

Erin watched as Ambassador Prentiss addressed the cadets. She was only two weeks away from graduating from the Academy at the top of her class and was one of a handful of female cadets who were chosen to have lunch with the Ambassador. Erin could hardly contain her admiration for the Ambassador, who had just returned from being the first woman to be appointed to an Arab country. Ambassador Prentiss shared with the cadets that the key to being a woman in a man's field was not to assimilate, but rather accentuate the qualities that only a woman can bring to the bargaining table. _Remember, you always have manipulation and intimidation in your back pocket,_ she told the cadets with a wink.

Emily sat with her arms crossed, pretending to be disinterested in the teacher's lecture on the theory of reaction formation. She was clothed in black from head-to-toe. After what she had done to Matthew, she knew it wasn't sufficient to just keep people out, she needed to scare them away. Letting her guard down had ruined one life and ended another before it even began. Her armor became saturated and suffocating; it wasn't until she returned to D.C. that she felt like she could breathe again. Hidden behind a mask of apathy that was held together by black lipstick, dark eyeliner, and a lot of hair spray was a determined young woman who was unwavering in her goal of doing something meaningful with her life. After all, she was living for three.

Supervisory Special Agent Strauss had moved quickly up the ranks. She did things by the book, accepted nothing less than perfection from herself and her teammates, and was always the first to arrive and the last to leave the office. In her climb to the top, toes had been stepped and shoulders were unwittingly used for hoisting her up. She had a one-track mind that led only to the top of the FBI hierarchy. Until she met James Legette. The high school calculus teacher managed to do something no one had ever done: he distracted her. While it took months for him to work through the maze of barbs and quills Erin had amassed over the years, once he was in, she was his. And he was hers.

As a cadet, Prentiss had been singled out from her Academy class. She had the unique academic focus of psychology and law and spoke five languages fluently. She could lie through her teeth and have veteran agents believing everything she said. She was adept at figuring out what made people tick, which was of great use in the tracking down and apprehension of hypothetical criminals. Her success at the Academy was over-shadowed by her classmates' rumors and conjectures that she was merely coasting on Mommy's coat tails. If only they knew how disappointed Ambassador Prentiss was in her daughter for choosing a career in the FBI. Emily hardly needed her armor anymore; who she was seemed sufficient to keep people away and her expression of indifference didn't have to be faked anymore.

SSA Strauss never forgave her oldest daughter for delaying her promotion to Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge. She had been poised to be the youngest female promoted to the position before her daughter was born six weeks early. SSA Strauss failed to close three cases, which set her back at least twelve months in the promotion process. She learned her lesson and planned her second child's birth appropriately and when she returned from her maternity leave, she no longer had _Assistant_ in her title. But just like her other daughter, her youngest was conceived and born at another inopportune time. So Strauss shed her title of Agent in favor of Director three years after her original goal. So it was only natural that she favored her middle child. Besides, her girls needed to develop thick skins. Because if there was anything that Assistant Director Strauss knew she could teach her daughters, it was how to protect themselves.

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><p><strong>AN: **I am almost obsessional in my pursuit of writing factual and plausible stories, whether it is in regards to canon or actual historical fact. I thought I'd share what I learned about who actually was the first woman U.S. Ambassador to an Arab country (which, as you can imagine was a pretty big deal). April Glaspie was the first woman to be appointed Ambassador to an Arab country (Iraq) in 1989.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: For the Writers of the Silver Screen challenge on CCOAC. My chosen character was Prentiss, the movie was _The Untouchables_, and my assigned character was Strauss.

Thanks to all those who are reading, reviewing, alerting, and favoriting – you're awesome and you make my world go around.

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><p>A few weeks before graduation, Emily was called into a meeting with the Director of International Affairs. <em>Your instructors have praised your work quite highly<em>, he told her. _There's an opening in the Legat office in Baghdad_. She was being offered a post as a legal attaché in Iraq. She had so desperately wanted to leave her childhood behind, and yet that was exactly what brought her to this point. As a child she had longed to return to a home that didn't exist and as an adult Emily continued to search for a home that she hadn't found. Emily agreed almost instantly. The opportunity was an escape and a homecoming in one.

It didn't take long for Erin to discover that the politics and bureaucracy at the FBI don't hold a candle to those of the Wellington Academy PTA. There were hierarchies for everything from the phone tree to bake sales. It certainly didn't help matters that the first time they met, the PTA President referred to her as Mrs. Legette. Section Chief Erin Strauss had never called herself Mrs. Legette. Mrs. Legette was her mother-in-law, who was judgmental and never liked the woman that her son had married. Erin's unpopularity in the PTA only supported Mrs. Legette's warnings that Erin's relationship with the FBI would leave James home playing Mr. Mom. Erin and James thought their division of labor in the household was ideal; the only problem was having to defend it to everyone else.

She fit a type. That's what SSA Prentiss was told when the Interpol-FBI-MI5 joint task force recruited her to the Valhalla Project. She was told it would be a six-month assignment, maybe nine months, tops. That was before they realized how much they had underestimated the size and scope of Ian Doyle's reach. Every day for almost three years, Emily woke up and slipped on another layer to her Gore-tex shield. At first it was to protect herself. As more time passed, however, those extra layers began to replace the pieces of herself that she lost every time she felt Doyle's body pressed up against hers.

Section Chief Strauss was horrified to find the list of potential Section Chief candidates. She had not been notified that she was up for a promotion. Which meant she was being replaced, not succeeded. Agent Hotchner's name was at the top of the list. Her own subordinate. A field agent who had no business being an administrator. Strauss thought about the BAU and immediately she recalled a number of transgressions. Technical Analyst Garcia had compromised the security of the entire network at Quantico and Agent Hotchner had given her a pass. Nobody actually believed that Agent Greenaway's shooting in Ohio was on the up-and-up and yet she was cleared to return to work. Not to mention that the team's work was suffering; they hadn't solved the case in time to save that high school girl in Pennsylvania. These missteps could not and should not be overlooked. But it would be suspicious in timing if suddenly months old issues surfaced. She needed someone else to help bring Agent Hotchner's failed leadership to light. As she reviewed the candidates applying for the opening, one name caught her eye. _Emily Prentiss_.

Emily had been given three months of paid leave following the successful conclusion of the Valhalla case. She had three months to undo three years. Three months to get back the pieces of herself that Doyle had taken. _Lauren Reynolds is dead_. If Lauren Reynolds were dead then Emily wouldn't find herself shopping for white pants. She wouldn't go to the children's section of the bookstore. If Lauren Reynolds were dead, Emily wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night, still feeling Doyle's lips on hers. Three months was hardly enough time to fully extricate herself from Lauren Reynolds. So it wasn't surprising that when she arrived in St. Louis, she quickly acquired the reputation of being impulsive and reckless in the field.

It wasn't the first time Chief Strauss had seen Agent Prentiss's name on the list when there was an opening in the BAU. There was always something amiss about her file: she was a certified profiler with the appropriate qualifications, but there was no evidence in her file that she'd actually taken the courses and logged the field time. Chief Strauss, like many of the others involved in the hiring process presumed that the Ambassador had pulled the right strings to get her on the list, but not enough strings to be able to falsify course records. Strauss sat back in her chair and smiled. If Agent Prentiss were willing to have _Mommy Prentiss_ work the system to her advantage, surely she would have no issue becoming Strauss's pawn. Her Agent Prentiss Puppet would be well-poised to help in the takedown of Aaron Hotchner.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: For the Writers of the Silver Screen challenge on CCOAC. My chosen character was Prentiss and the movie was _The Untouchables_, and my assigned character was Strauss.

Thanks again to all those who are reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting – I really appreciate it!

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><p>Agent Prentiss was floundering in St. Louis. For once she felt like her armor was working too well. Her teammates saw her as aloof and elitist and she was never really integrated into the team. So when there was an opening at the BAU in Washington D.C., Emily jumped at the opportunity to apply. She was shocked when she was notified of her transfer. <em>Effective immediately<em>. Her surprise wasn't a product of self-doubt; Emily knew she could do the job, but there was a small glitch in her certification history. In order to be certified, profilers need to log a certain number of classroom and field hours. She did all of the hours; she just couldn't log them in the appropriate place. She had completed them through Interpol's program and anyone who wanted to view those records needed Top Secret Clearance. No one low enough in the Agent hiring and transferring chain actually had that level of security access. Perhaps that changed; perhaps someone finally paid attention to her true qualifications.

Chief Strauss had considered Agent Hotchner's reaction to the sudden appearance of Agent Prentiss at the BAU. So she wasn't surprised to find a confused and clearly upset Agent Prentiss standing in the bullpen with her box in her hands. _You're not on the St. Louis case?_ Agent Prentiss shook her head. _I guess there's been a mistake, _she answered. _He didn't approve the transfer_. Chief Strauss laughed and put her hand on Emily's. _No mistake, Agent. You deserve to be here_. She assured the agent that she would notify her when the team returned so the situation could be rectified. It had almost been too easy – setting up Agent Hotchner as the bad guy and herself as the savior. Things seemed to deviate from Strauss's perfect plan when she heard that Agent Prentiss had taken matters into her own hands and went to Agent Hotchner on her own. Strauss didn't want someone who was so self-assured and brazen. She needed to get Agent Prentiss back under her control.

Emily's heart sank when she saw Ambassador Prentiss walk through the door of the BAU bullpen. _Mother?_ Her worlds suddenly collided and the wall between her professional life and her personal life was about to be torn down. Hotch was the only person she had allowed to glimpse over that wall and even that had been done in a moment of desperation and a rare display of emotionality. _I think politics makes people distrustful. I think it makes them hate themselves. I think it tears families apart and damages people._ After years of fighting with her mother about joining the FBI, Emily couldn't believe that her mother was standing in the middle of the FBI building asking for her team's help. After months of dodging questions about her family and her childhood, her mother was standing in the middle of the bullpen ready to reveal herself for the nepotistic, manipulative _politician_ Emily knew her to be. Emily wiped her hands on her slacks and ran down to greet her mother, hoping to maintain some semblance of separation between the two halves of her life.

Chief Strauss wasn't a completely heartless bitch. She felt terribly sad for Agent Gideon's loss. However, she was not one to allow emotion to get in the way of professional advancement. Her list of the BAU's transgressions had only grown longer since Agent Prentiss arrived on the team: Dr. Reid's kidnapping in Georgia, Agent Jareau's questionable interactions with a detective on the New Orleans case, and Agent Hotchner's near riding roughshod over the detective in Kansas City. Her investment was yielding higher returns than Strauss had imagined it would. What was it that everyone said about the market? Knowing when to get out, that's the trick. It was time to cash in her chips.

As Emily sat in Chief Strauss's office, she thought back to a few weeks ago when she had gone out with JJ and Garcia for girls' night. _So, Secret Agent Smith, tell me about your last case at the F.B.I._ Emily looked to her side and saw two guys who had turned their conversation into a show. The way the smarmy "secret agent" looked over at her, Emily guessed she was the intended audience. _I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to listen to us talk shop._ Emily managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. He couldn't even fake a good apology. Not that she was surprised. After all, neither he nor his wingman bothered to research the fact that there are no _secret _agents in the F.B.I. She glanced over and saw JJ and Garcia settling in at one of the tables. _Oh, I don't mind. I'm _fascinated_ by all that crime-fighting _secret_ agent stuff. _She wasn't sure what compelled her to add a giggle at the end of her proclamation, but it just seemed right. He could be the Secret Agent and she would be the dumb bimbo who thinks that's attractive. Emily found it laughable that someone was using _her_ life as a pick-up line. While most of the men she dated found her badge and gun to be very sexy accessories, when they found out what she used them for, they went running to the hills. He told her his name was Brad. _Well, Brad,_ she said batting her eyelashes, _I'm sure my friends would _love_ to meet a _real_ secret agent._ JJ and Emily were still laughing about it on the plane to Spokane.

Chief Strauss sat on the edge of her desk and delivered the final blow. _It's time for Agent Hotchner's career to come to an end. And if you want to stay in the BAU, Agent Prentiss, you're going to help me make that happen._ Strauss had been watching Agent Prentiss for the last six months and had to admit she was impressed with the young agent; her stoic façade never wavered. There was something about Agent Prentiss that reminded Strauss of her younger self. It was likely this similarity that made it even more satisfying for Strauss to watch the unflappable air around the agent dissipate. She had lined up Agent Prentiss and Agent Hotchner and it was time to watch them fall.


	5. Chapter 5

This story was nominated for 2 Profiler's Choice Awards, **Best Unusual Pairing** and **Best Characterization of Erin Strauss**.

Thanks for sticking with this story despite the ridiculously long hiatus.

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><p>Her mother, John Cooley, Father Gamino. When Emily was fifteen she learned the meaning of the word <em>betrayal<em>. The three pillars in her life crumbled simultaneously: family, friends, church. Left on her own, Emily lacked the materials to rebuild those pillars. And she had learned that pillars collapse. What she needed was a fort. Because if you never let people in, if you never trust them, they could never betray you. While Lauren Reynolds betrayed Ian Doyle, Emily Prentiss has never betrayed anyone. She knew how it felt and she never wanted to make anyone feel that way. She felt that an international terrorist with the blood of hundreds of people on his hands was worth making an exception. But she would not betray her team; she would not betray her Unit Chief.

It's not that Chief Strauss was happy that a co-ed and released suspect had been involved in a murder-suicide not more than twenty feet away from two of Agent Hotchner's agents. She wasn't happy that they were dead. But it pleased her to no end that _if_ something tragic like this _had_ to happen, it did so in a manner that allowed her to justifiably suspend both Agents Hotchner and Gideon. Once this kind of disciplinary action is taken, an agent's future is put into permanent pause. No one advances to Director with a suspension on his record. Now that the first steps had been taken, Strauss was confident that with Agent Prentiss on her side the BAU would be dismantled. Strauss sat back in her chair and smiled as she thought about the opportunity to rebuild it. _Her way._

Emily signed her name and added a _fuck you_ flourish with a big loop on the _y_. She curled her hair, applied mascara, and set off for Quantico. JJ had left a message on her voicemail saying that the team had a case in Milwaukee. The briefing was scheduled for 10:00 am and the jet was set to take off at 11:00. She glanced at her watch, 10:45. Perfect, they'd already be gone by time she got there; emotional good-byes weren't really her thing. That was how the armor worked: nothing got in, nothing got out. She paused only briefly to look out at the bullpen as she stalked over to Strauss's office. Get in, get out, and get back home to the plate of fudge brownies and bottle of red wine she left on the coffee table.

When Agent Prentiss walked through the door, Strauss couldn't help the narrowing of her eyes and puff of angry air that escaped her nostrils. _You're not fooling anyone_, she thought when Prentiss turned to her and with only saccharine in her voice said, _I'm sorry to interrupt_. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and plastered on a tolerant smile, which was thankfully in place as the agent announced, _Sir, I've decided to resign from the FBI, effective immediately_. Strauss was almost ready to go on the offensive until she realized that perhaps she didn't actually need Emily Prentiss to be her stool pigeon. After all, she was sitting in Agent Hotchner's office offering him a bogus position on some non-existent white-collar task force. Agent Gideon still hadn't shown up to work. She allowed herself a self-satisfied smile as she realized that with very little effort on her part the BAU was down to two profilers, one of whom was a disaster in the field; a communications liaison; and a technical analyst. It appeared as though the BAU was going to dismantle itself. And she had a front row seat.

_I told you, I hate politics._ Emily immediately regretted the catch in her voice. When Hotch first acknowledged why Emily was put on the team it was as though she unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor. Now that her voice had betrayed her it felt like her pants were suddenly pooled at her feet. There she was, standing metaphorically naked in front of Hotch in her own living room. _I want you on that plane with me._ Emily couldn't believe what she was hearing, why would he want her on the plane when she was assigned to the BAU as simply a stool pigeon disguised as a profiler. She was upstairs changing her clothes, now standing literally naked in front of her closet. She needed something to protect her. She grabbed her cargo pants and combat boots. She felt like she was going into battle so she may as well dress the part. She added a pink t-shirt to soften the look; it was her own personal camouflage.

As Section Chief Strauss watched the BAU (dys)function, she couldn't help but be both appalled by and pleased with their behavior. Appalled because this unit is supposed to be one of the most respected and prestigious one in the FBI. Pleased because their level of dysfunction would only make it easier to scatter these agents across the country. First Agent Morgan mouthed off to her on the plane, then Agent Jareau had the nerve to redress her in front of the local yokels, and their technical analyst answered the phone like she was working a sex hotline. Their lack of decorum and respect for the chain of command was astounding and further proof that Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner had no capability to supervise anyone, let alone be in charge. _You need to present these counselors with the profile of a troubled kid_. She showed the team she could take charge and steer this investigation in the right direction. Agent Hotchner won't be able to question her abilities in the field again.

Confident. Happy. That's how Emily decided to approach her entry into the conference room. She would just stroll in, sit down, and grab some case files like she belonged there. Her dauntless and unflappable armor would provide absolute coverage for her insecurity. _She hoped_. The smile JJ shot in her direction had the immediate effect of slowing the thumping in her chest, allowing her to take a deep breath and smile back. She could do this. Because she _was _a profiler, after all. While she may not have earned her spot in the BAU, she was a profiler. It was a fact that that had been overshadowed by Strauss's admission. For the last two months Emily had only seen herself as a stool pigeon, a political pawn who was given preferential treatment because she was a Prentiss. _We're only here to help_, she said when Strauss entered the room._ The team,_ she added silently.

She stepped on her hair. When she approached the crime scene, Chief Strauss accidentally stepped on the blond hair splayed around the dead woman's head. _You can't let the public see you break down._ The absurdity of Agent Hotchner's advice snapped Erin back to reality. She never let _anyone_ see her break down. She simply raised her quills, forcing everyone around her to keep a wide berth. She told herself that the burning in her chest and cheeks was simply the determination to take charge and catch the man responsible for doing these heinous crimes, and not from the embarrassment of allowing herself to be rattled by the crime scene.

_Then you have no authority over me_. It took all of Emily's self-control to not douse that phrase in the contempt and hatred she felt towards Strauss. _No one can make you feel inferior without your consent_. Emily just rescinded Strauss's power to make her feel like a political pawn. Resigning from the FBI reminded Emily that her integrity and fidelity had not been broken. Chief Strauss had _no idea_ who she was dealing with and had obviously made a miscalculation assuming that Emily had inherited her mother's propensity for selling out her convictions to the highest, most attractive bidder. Strauss, despite her position of power over the BAU, clearly had no insight into human relationships and reaction formations. _You have no authority over me_. Emily repeated the line over and over in her head to confirm its veracity.

Nothing rankled Chief Strauss more than being questioned in public. First Agent Morgan directly contradicted her plan, then that damn detective took his side and to make things worse. And now Emily Prentiss tried to do an end-run around her plan. _No,_ she said firmly, trying to shut down their insubordination. She outranked everyone on the street, this conversation should never even have happened. Because when she gives an order, they should follow it without question. Her quills were raised and she was ready to strike back. _Technically you're not even in the FBI_. That should shut them all up. _Then you have no authority over me._ What irritated her more than Prentiss's continued insubordination was the fact that it wasn't actually insubordination. She had lost control of Prentiss and watched as the former agent attempted to take away her control over the remainder of the team.

_This is it_, Emily thought. _I'm going to be shot and killed by a seven-year-old holding Morgan's backup piece._ Her head was pounding, her vision was blurry, and she was trying desperately to ignore the nausea that had suddenly hit her with the same force of the two-by-four. Even with all that going on, the most prominent thought that ran though her head was how badly she screwed up. Here was her chance to prove herself, to erase any doubts about her qualifications and show everyone that she belonged in the BAU even if all other evidence was to the contrary. She heard the team enter the house and after what seemed like hours, she saw Mr. Smith being led out of the basement. _Are you okay?_ JJ asked her. _No._ Emily ran through her potential responses and realized they were going to either exacerbate her headache and nausea or expose a crack in her stoic façade. None of those options were acceptable. _I'll call an ambulance._ Her silence must have sufficiently answered JJ's question. No matter what she did, the cracks were starting to show.

As Chief Strauss watched the post-arrest activity on the street, she couldn't help but marvel that this case arrived at the best resolution possible, despite the collective ineptitude of the BAU profilers. _You know I can't_ officially _approve of how this went down._ She was playing both offense and defense in this game and had no intention of losing at either one. She saw the detective putting Mr. Smith into the back of his cruiser and couldn't understand Agent Hotchner's insistence that the locals make the arrest. _They_ were the ones who endangered these women's lives by not calling sooner. _They_ weren't the ones who tracked down the son. But here they were, collaring the suspect as though they'd done all the work. As she looked around at the members of this BAU team, she realized that if she were to get rid of Agent Hotchner, she'd have to take charge of this insubordinate group until she could convince the Director to replace the team entirely. After careful consideration, she decided to back off her plan to oust Agent Hotchner; the last thing she needed was to be weighed down by a fractious team.

Emily blinked and concentrated on the Capitol Building. It was one of the symbols from her childhood; it represented home and familiarity, but it was also a reminder of her mother's duplicity. She remembered the first night she spent in her apartment; she had promised herself things would be different. She was going to be Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss. Not _oh, Emily Prentiss, you must be the Ambassador's daughter!_ Of course, that resolution went out the window in her first five minutes talking to Hotch. _Perhaps you think that my parents pulled some strings, which they haven't by the way._ As it turned out the strings were actually being pulled by another politician who just happened to masquerade as an FBI Section Chief. The last nine months have been spent as Strauss's marionette.

Emily blinked again and the bandage on her forehead came into focus. _I want you on that plane with me_, Hotch had said. _Is it weird that I'm glad to be back?_ She had asked, afraid to come out and ask for her job back; she couldn't bear the idea of Hotch saying no to an outright request like that. _I'll make sure it stays official._ On the plane ride home, Hotch sat across from her and told her, _I don't care about the circumstances of how you were assigned to the team in the first place; you're on the team now because I want you here. You deserve to be here and don't believe for a second that you didn't earn your spot on this team. You belong here as much as Morgan and Reid do._

Emily blinked again as the city lights began to blur. Her head was pounding and she was ready to collapse from exhaustion. And it was perhaps in this somewhat mentally weakened state that she believed Hotch's words as they replayed in her head. _You deserve to be here. You earned your spot on the team_. Emily hugged herself as she continued to look out the window. It was time to shed her Gore-tex shield and let the mutual trust and respect she had with her teammates in the field evolve into something that covers her in all aspects of her life.


End file.
